Twilight and Dreamings
by Lyris Malachi
Summary: A series of drabbles with themes of night, sleeping and dreaming. Previously a oneshot entitled Brother.
1. Brother

It's night and I watch Brother sleep; his chest rising and falling with each breath. He snores lightly and a thin strand of drool trails from the corner of his mouth to darken his pillow. I don't need sleep. I don't need to eat or drink either.

I don't blame Brother. He wanted to bring Mother back more than I did, but I wasn't an unwilling participant. I knew we would be okay without Mother; after all, I had Brother to look after me. Ed needed Mother. He wasn't ready to grow up. Well, ready or not, we both grew up.

The moonlight reflects off Brother's watch, his badge of honor from the military. We were supposed to both become State Alchemists. I was going to help him find the Philosopher's Stone. I want Brother to be whole again. I want my body back too, but I see Brother staring at his arm sometimes with a sad expression on his face. He doesn't think I notice him staring at the Automail before he sleeps, but I do. I feel like crying for him, but I can't, not anymore.

I stare at my huge hands. This is who I am now, just a suit of armor. All that remains of me is a disembodied voice and emotions. I should feel sad, but I have trouble remembering what it was like to have a body. I don't remember what the sun felt like or the grass under me as Brother and I stared at the sky. The feel of skin and the taste of food are lost to me too. Forever, I fear.

Brother stirs and I remain quiet. The armor is loud and seems to creak every time I move. I don't want to wake him; this is the first time he's slept in a bed in weeks. Most of the time, he falls asleep at his desk, books spread out before him.

The Philosopher's Stone has become our quest. Brother reads book after book, committing names and arrays to memory and sometimes I hear him mutter those names or see him trace the arrays in the air as he sleeps. He's become obsessed with trying to get our bodies back, to get Mother back.

I want to have my body back more than anything, but not if Brother sacrifices his health and happiness. We haven't seen Winry in a very long time and I miss her. She never stares at me funny like everyone else seems to. I tried telling Brother once that we should visit Winry and her grandmother again, but he said he had a lead on the Stone. I haven't brought up the subject again.

Brother has always been stubborn and I wonder if he was like our father. Mother wasn't stubborn—she was kind and gentle and compromising. Nonexistent tears spring to my nonexistent eyes. I still cling to her memories, afraid to let them go. They are my most precious treasure I still have.

Mother was Brother's most precious treasure too. He wanted to bring her back more than anything and I wanted to stop him, I _knew_ it was taboo, but I wanted to see her again. I could have stopped him and yet I know I couldn't have. When Brother sets his mind to something, it's nearly impossible to change it. He insisted on getting Automail and becoming a State Alchemist even though I know it must have hurt beyond words. He spends long nights reading and studying arrays; some of what he reads is even beyond my comprehension. I've seen him read the same book a dozen times until he understood every word.

"Al? Are you all right?"

Surprised, I look up. Brother was sitting up, watching me. He was worried about me. He was always worried about me. I wanted to tell him to stop, tell him that I could take care of myself. I wanted to become a State Alchemist and find the Stone to take care of him.

I heard myself saying, "I'm all right. I hope I didn't wake you."

He smiled, rubbing the back of his head. "Nah. I couldn't sleep anyway."

Liar.

He lay back down. "Tell you what. In the morning, we'll go back to the library and look at more books."

"Okay." He fell asleep again. I had missed another chance to tell him to slow down and not to worry so much. I wanted to sigh. I knew that if I had said that, Brother would have brushed it off. He would have told me he enjoyed looking through so many dusty old books and that we were really close, so we should just keep looking.

I hoped we would find the Stone soon so Brother would stop obsessing. I'd like to have him back.


	2. Two Worlds

Gracia turned over in her sleep, sighing as she settled in again. The blankets were bunched around her waist and she rested one hand between her cheek and the pillow.

Beside her, Maes propped himself up on one elbow, watching her sleep. He lifted a hand to touch her, caress her bare shoulder, but dropped it again. He didn't want to wake her. She trembled slightly and he pulled the blankets up to her shoulders, his hands brushing her skin after all. He loved the feel of her smooth skin against his calloused hands.

He rolled onto his back, staring at the dark ceiling. Something big was coming, he could feel it. His instincts were pretty sharp; it was hard to survive in the military and impossible to advance without them. Sharp instincts or no, he had no idea what this big thing was. All he could really do was keep his eyes open and be ready when it happened. Maes glanced at his wife again. And pray that it didn't touch his family.

Throwing back the covers, he rose, pausing long enough to tuck them around Gracia. She didn't even stir and he gazed down at her. She was still beautiful and still kind. He finally gave into temptation and touched her face. He still loved her.

Maes threw on a robe, stepped into slippers and padded through the silent house. He couldn't sleep and he didn't want to wake Gracia. She did that sometimes when he laid awake thinking. She always told him that he thought too loud.

He paused to stare out a window. The crescent moon provided little light this late at night. He remembered night talks with Roy, especially just after the war. There had also been nights when he was still a bachelor, nights where they stayed up all night, drinking and talking about nothing. He missed those nights.

Now, Roy was entangling himself in the intricacies of military politics. He had promised to push him to the top and he wasn't about to renege on his promise. He had a good head on his shoulders, but sometimes he wondered if Roy hadn't bitten off more than he could chew. Sometimes Maes thought he could even see the noose tightening around Roy's neck.

He continued his restless trek through the house, inevitably standing in the doorway of his daughter's room. He smiled as his dark thoughts fled. She really looked like an angel sleeping. He entered her room and kissed her cheek. She sighed softly, just like her mother, and curled a tiny fist under her chin.

He suddenly wondered what the Elrics had been like at that age. His smile faded. They had seen horrors that would have turned grown men into quivering piles and still they pressed on, ever-reaching for the philosopher's stone.

He didn't know much about their past, but he didn't know that their father had abandoned them when they were both young. He chuckled softly. Everyone talks about motherly instinct, but no one ever mentions fatherly instincts. He felt like their father sometimes: keeping them out of trouble as best as he could, slipping them otherwise classified information, seeing that they are able to reach their goals.

Elicia twitched as she dreamed and he turned his eyes back to her, watching her sleep. He wondered what she would be like at Ed's age. Would she be calm like Al or ambitious and pushy like Ed. And Roy. He chuckled again. Sometimes it seemed like he was working with two version of the same person.

He knew why Ed pushed himself. It was the same reason Roy did. Their unrelenting pursuits of their goals were their entire lives and hew knew that both were afraid to stop and look back on their lives. He wondered if Al knew it. He couldn't read the stoic armor, but sometimes, when Al looked at him, he thought he could almost see human emotions. But then the helmet would turn and look at something else and the emotions Maes was trying to put into words would fade from his mind.

Maes rested his head on top of Elicia's head, feeling her feathery hair beneath his firm hand. She would grow up to be a wonderful woman, he just knew it. He was determined to give her the best education he could afford. He suddenly wondered what she would be like as an adult, what her talents would be. Would she study alchemy? He'd support her, of course, but he would beg her to stay out of the military if he had to.

He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He needed to return to bed soon or Gracia would wake and come looking for him. She worried too much about him, even though she tried to act otherwise. He did his best to keep work and home parts of two very different worlds, but there were times when he would stare off into space, deep in thought, and she'd drop whatever she was doing to just hold him in her arms.

Entering his room once more, he kicked off his slippers and dropped his robe on the floor beside the bed. He slid into bed slowly, the ease coming with practice. How many nights had there been when he was called away or didn't even return home until after Gracia had gone to bed? He had lost count years ago. He eased the blanket away from his wife and pulled it up to ward off the chilly night. He snuggled up to the beautiful woman and wrapped his arms around her. She sighed again, but still didn't wake. Maes closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. He finally drifted off to sleep.


End file.
